Things About My Carol: Part 4: "She Said: Prove It!"

I spent most of my childhood years in New England. Being a military brat, we did move around a lot (11 schools from K-12) including to North and South Carolina... and then back to New Hampshire before ending up in Georgia. New England will always feel a bit like home. Every self-respecting New England kid learns at least 2 things: how to ice skate and how to snow ski. My first time skiing (other than on nearby Barrett's Hill) was in 1968 at the now defunct and abandoned Fitzwilliam Ski Area in Fitzwilliam, NH, about 20 min from where we lived. Massive vertical drop of 240 ft. You nearly had to push with your poles to go downhill. First time down though I crashed through the snow fence at the bottom. According to Newton, a body in motion will remain in motion... if you're not good at stopping.

Tyrolia cable binding

Ski equipment was pretty crude back then. The ski bindings we are familiar with today were not available in the 1960s. I recall the skis had a toe "release" binding that would turn left or right if enough lateral force was applied, releasing your boot (hopefully requiring less force than what would tear up your knee ligaments.) But, for the rear, your boot had a groove in the back of the heel that accommoded a cable that would pull your boot tightly forward when you latched the cable binding at the front. More like an old cross-country configuration than what we use today for downhill skiing. Lots of injuries back then.

Fitzwilliam had only 2 ways to get you up the slope: a rope tow and a poma lift (also known as a button lift.) Each of these "surface lifts" has its challenges. In both cases, you literally have to ski up the mountain while either being pulled by a rope or, if using the poma lift, putting the "button" between your legs and getting yanked up the hill (see video.) For my very first time on the poma lift I tried to sit on it (which you cannot do,) it and I went to the ground, and I landed on and put a huge bend in one of my ski poles (you cannot unbend them.) Fun skiing with 1 pole.

Fast forward to 1982. I start dating Carol. If you have read my previous blogs: "Things about my Carol" (link,) you already know that she was a bit fiesty and that she was also a bit adventurous (she was a certified scuba diver.) Well, she was also a snow skier. She had even skied in Austria before we met! After several weeks of dating, she informed me that she had already booked a trip out west to go skiing and, that I could either go with her (provided I knew how to ski) or I could wave goodbye from the airport because she was not going to cancel her trip just because she had started dating me. No boyfriend was going to cramp her style I guess. I told her I did, in fact, know how to ski since I was a New Hampshire native (but I hadn't skied in over 10 years.)

She said, "OK, prove it."

I said, "prove what?"

She said, "that you actually know how to ski."

I said, "you think I'm making that up just to impress you?"

She said, "well, if you know how to ski then you should have no problem proving it." 

Good grief! Fiesty gal.

So, one Saturday we made a day trip up to Maggie Valley, NC to spend the day skiing at Cataloochee Ski Area. 

Cataloochee trail map

Since I hadn't skied since Nixon was in the White House, I had to borrow ski apparel/ gloves/ goggles from one of Carol's friends. I had no insulated undergarments so, under the ski bibs, I actually wore panty hose with the feet cut off of them (it does keep your legs warm.)

T-bar

@ Cataloochee

Carol had her own skis and boots but I had to rent my gear. Once we were all set to start, we were heading to the lift (it was a T-bar... another surface "pull you up the mountain" type lift)
She stopped and said, "ok, show me what you've got." I said, "you're not going up with me?" She said, "no... I want to wait and see if you can actually get up and back down this bunny slope without falling... I don't want you to embarass me."

By now, relationship red flags were flying all over the place. But, I kinda admired her spunkiness. I felt up to the challenge.

@ Cataloochee

So, the T-bar pulled me up the slope while I prayed, "Lord don't let me get my skis crossed or catch an edge going up this little slope." The good news is that I made it up and proceeded to ski right down without embarassing myself at all. The kid still had it.

She said, "OK, we can ski now." We spent the rest of the day skiing and having a great time.

Oh, by the way, Carol canceled her ski trip to Jackson Hole, WY because she fell in love with this transplanted Yankee. (Also, I couldn't get off work to go nor could I really afford it at that time.)

And she didn't want to go without me. Awwwww.

Over the years we made multiple trips skiing up in West Virginia and out in Colorado. Breckenridge was our favorite.

Prove it she says.

Hold my beer...

first trip to Breckenridge- 1987

Click here to follow my blogs

Click to go to blog home page

An Ode to Carol on our Anniversary

   

our first "together" home

The years have flown by, so how did we fare? 

forty-two years, and still quite the pair. 

Loving and laughing, and laughing some more, 

with faithful reminders of how much I snore.

Forty-two years, the questions ran deep,

like “what is that smell?” and... “is it your feet?”

We laughed at each other’s most obvious quirks,

but never forgot to cherish the perks.

I promised adventures from here to afar, 

that mostly just meant long rides in the car. 

We knew from the start where this thing was headed,

together for life with nothing regretted.

"I've been waiting for a girl like you to come into my life
 I've been waiting for a girl like you, a love that will survive

 I've been waiting for someone new to make me feel alive

 Yeah, waiting for a girl like you to come into my life"

1981 Lou Gramm and Mick Jones- Songwriters
1982 Mike Toomey- falling in love with Carol Williams

Click here to follow my blog

Click here for main blog page

How Are You Doing?

More than a pick-up line?

Many years ago, during my life in the corporate world, we had a guy named Joe who worked in our Purchasing Department (that's what it was called way back in the olden days.) I actually went to high school with his son. I can remember passing him in the hallway one day and, as is often the case when you are doing a drive-by greeting, I said, "hey, good morning, how are you doing?" When we ask that question we usually expect a response like, "good, how about you?" It's not meant to be a real interrogatory; it's mostly just a casual salutation. But, on that morning, Joe took it as an actual question. For about 3 or 4 minutes he shared several things that were not going so well in his world at that time. I really had no choice but to stand there in the hallway and hear him out because, after all, I did ask him the question. I was caught off-guard and it was bit awkward. I wasn't expecting him to share with me how he was actually doing. But, the subsequent times I asked Joe that question, I was prepared to listen to this very nice guy, old enough to be my father, who apparently needed someone he knew and trusted to listen. Sometimes it was personal, sometimes it was job related, sometimes it was simply, "good, and you?"

A few years back, I taught a series of Sunday School lessons when I was leading a group of young parents. I called the series "Lies We Hear and Say At Church." The very first lesson topic was how we give the answer, "I'm doing fine" when asked at church (or most anywhere, really) how we are doing.

This should be no shock to anyone: it is sometimes untrue.

But here's the thing. When it is untrue, we often don't really know what to say instead.

Sometimes we fib because we just don't want to burden people with the truth. Sometimes we assume it is being asked more as a greeting than a real inquiry. Sometimes we truly don't know how to describe how we are doing. Sometimes it is just easier to say, "I'm doing OK, I'm hanging in there, I'm great, I can't complain, I'm doing the best I can." We've all said and heard some version of that answer almost every day.

There is another question that can be equally hard to answer... or at least answer honestly.

"How can I help?"

I was reading a blog on this very topic that posed a suggestion, "What if I had a list of responses ready ahead of time so I woudn't stutter and stammer and ultimately let the opportunity go to waste?" She then listed 15 example responses.

I'm not too sure I would be comfortable with having a laundry list at the ready. It would almost be like casually suggesting to someone, "hey we need to get together for lunch soon" and the person says, "that sounds great... how about right now?" Whoa whoa whoa! That was too quick. I wasn't ready for that answer.

There are several things I am not very good at doing. One is navigating the food spread at a reception, banquet, etc. where the food is self-serve with multiple tables, carving stations, etc. I always spend way too much time talking to people and miss out on getting much to eat. The buffet professionals, however, know exactly how to maximize the gastro experience. Some are adept at balancing multiple plates with one hand and loading them to the maximum. Others are the no-plate-needed buffet table grazers that feed for a while at one station and then move on to the next until they have gotten their fill of everything available. I don't think I even ate at our daughter's wedding reception. And I paid for all that food! I'm just no good at it.

The other thing I'm not good at is answering the question in any meaningful way when asked, "how can I (or we) help?" (especially these days) Sometimes people even suggest answers that I usually politely dismiss. Why do I do that?

Maybe I think I should be capable of keeping all the plates in my life spinning without letting any fall. Maybe it is pride. Maybe it is fear. I wish I knew.

"How are you doing?"

"How can I help?"

I need to be more like Joe.

Click here to follow my blog

Click here for main blog page